Once it's dark

"Seriously, Lyla, it's bedtime."

"But Daddy, it's not even dark."

The sun sets a good 60-90 minutes after their bedtime.  Often Lyla will think of absurd reasons to come downstairs, and you can't really blame her since it looks like noon outside.

"Daddy?"

"Go back upstairs to bed, Lyla."

"If you tell a teacher something that a friend does, then that's a tattle."

"Thank you for that helpful information.  Go to bed."

"And if the friend is NOT being naughty and then you tell the teacher what they're doing, then it's REALLY a tattle."

"Why do I get the feeling you have experienced this firsthand?"

"What?"

"Nothing.  Go to bed."

"When I'm six, then I'm going to Disney World to see the princesses and Disney Land to see Strawberry Shortcake."

"Strawberry Shortcake is not a Disney--Lyla, quit stalling."  I potato-sack-haul her upstairs and tuck her in again.

"Daddy?"

"Yes, Lyla."

"When I am 100, my hair will touch the floor."

"I don't doubt it.  Good night."

"Daddy?"

"Good night."

Downstairs, we hear her talking to herself about this and that.  Once it's dark, she stops.